


TPP Kinktober 2020

by milfjuno



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Bondage, Cockwarming, Comeplay, Consensual Somnophilia, Creampie, Deepthroating, Desk Sex, Exhibitionism, F/F, Harnesses, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Lingerie, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Other, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sharing Clothes, Shower Sex, Strap-On Tech of The Future, T4T porn is my niche, Trans Peter Nureyev ONLY, Vampires, Voyeurism, Wing Kink, a whoooooole buncha prompts, i will update as it goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milfjuno/pseuds/milfjuno
Summary: It's Kinktober time! I'm gonna be posting short jupeter and vesbud prompts daily (hopefully, lol) throughout October, spanning over a variety of prompts from soft to hardcore (but probably not too hardcore, for I am incapable of not being tender).
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay, Duke Rose/Dahlia Rose, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel/Original Character(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 193





	1. bondage

**Author's Note:**

> welcome welcome! some starting notes:
> 
> 1\. ill be putting any relevant CWs at the start of the prompts if they apply, but rest assured it is all safe, sane & consensual.
> 
> 2\. i may swap up the body types of characters involved, i.e. juno may have a vagina at times, i *MIGHT* write something in which peter is without top surgery. i will warn ppl in the starting notes !
> 
> 3\. thanks to meg alec and amy for encouraging/working alongside me ! >:} 
> 
> prompt 1 is bondage. vespa's body is not described in detail; buddy has a vagina <3 (im trying not to use afab/amab so excuse the description haha)

“Well, I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

Vespa quirks a smile at the headboard while she runs her hands over the knots a final time, making sure they’re secure. She drags her hands down Buddy’s arms, which are wrapped in coils of soft red rope that criss-crosses across her chest, framing her breasts.

“Of course not,” Vepsa sits back on her heels and admires the view: Buddy Aurinko, with both her arms tied above her head; that dangerous, daring smirk playing over her lips, looking for all the world as though being tied up is all a part of her plan.

It is, of course--but the point is she commands the room even like this. It’s part of the game, figuring out who’s really in control. It lights Vespa up from the inside out.

“So?” Buddy prompts, “You’ve got me. What do you plan on doing with me, hm?” 

“I have a few ideas,” Vespa tries her best to sound seductive, unsure as always if she pulls it completely off, but false confidence is key. So Buddy says, anyway. She leans forward to trace her fingers down the planes of Buddy’s skin - her shoulders, her breasts for a moment, the rolls of her waist. Everywhere she knows Buddy’s sensitive.

She watches Buddy twitch and try not to squirm, a winning smile stealing onto her face when she hears Buddy’s breath hitch in her throat.

Vespa leans back and puts two fingers into her mouth, pulling them out slowly again with her eyes fixed on Buddy’s face, before reaching down between Buddy’s legs to touch her clit. Buddy gasps softly, her face turning into one of her arms. 

Vespa touches her a moment longer, dipping one finger down to tease over the slick folds of her entrance and then slide slowly back up to her clit again. Buddy bites down a sigh and then a gasp, her shoulders shifting against her restraints. “Vespa…” she sighs, then moans softly when Vespa rubs against her clit with a little more pressure.

Vespa leans down to catch Buddy’s lips with her own. Buddy sighs into her mouth, and Vespa lingers a moment before pulling away, slowly, both her mouth and her fingers.

“Darling,” Buddy says, clearly trying to keep her composure. She licks her lips and swallows, and Vespa smiles at her and sits back again. “You stopped.”

“Yeah,” Vespa rakes her eyes up and down her fiancee. There’s a quickness to the rise and fall of her chest, bound by pretty red rope, and her legs are spread just enough that Vespa can see the glisten between them. “You got a problem?”

“I certainly hope not,” Buddy says, a hint of her commanding voice seeping into her tone, “Not if you do as you’re told and start again, immediately.”

“Yeah?” Vespa asks, and grins, knowing this is a game she’s already won, “Alright,  _ Captain Aurinko. _ Make me.” 


	2. lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt 2 lingerie! + gender...
> 
> cws: some dirty talk? idk if i have to cw for that.
> 
> juno is amab in this (i decided just to stick to amab/afab, bc why not)

Juno spreads his legs a little and cocks his head, watching himself in the mirror. He feels… really, really good.

He looks good, too. He admires the way the straps sit, especially over his chest. A network of thin black faux-leather straps in the shape of a pentagram over his chest, the hair in each open space soft and curly. He runs his hands over it for a second, then over the lacy cups of the bra.

Then down, fingers skimming over the bow on either side of his hips, the network of straps framing the underwear he's wearing. The lace matches the bra. He runs his fingers over the bulge of himself, around the hair spilling out from the edges, and meets his eye in the mirror.

He feels _really_ fucking good. Not necessarily in a sexy way, though definitely partly that, just... he looks right. He feels content, and femme in a way he doesn't always get. He even pulled out an old accessory: curly hair drifts around his shoulders. The wig is a little on the old side, but it's in remarkably good condition considering all the closets its been shoved into the back of over the years.

Juno's hand drifts back between his legs again. He rubs himself through the lace, slowly. It catches a little, but it feels... better than jacking himself off just yet. It doesn't take long to get himself hard, and soon he's tipping his head back and biting his lip.

"Fuck," he gasps, to nobody, one of his thighs twitching. He pants heavily, his thoughts flicking to his boyfriend, wondering what he'd say if he saw him like this.

 _Dirty girl,_ the Peter in his imagination says. He's sitting on the floor in front of the bed, pressing kisses to Juno's thighs and looking up at him like he wants to fuck him all night. _So desperate to come all over yourself, aren't you? Shameless slut. You're going to ruin this lovely lacework._

The real Peter's a little gentler most of the time, but it doesn't matter. Juno's already pulled himself out of his underwear. He whimpers, and presses his fingers into the head of his cock. "Fuck," he groans again, sounding hoarse now. His legs twitch again and he sighs and groans, bunching the blankets up with his free hand. Dizzily, he looks at himself in the mirror, watching a bead of precum dribble over his fingers, imagining Peter appraising him.

 _Sexy thing. My pretty, wretched girl, look at you._ He's right on the edge, and in his mind, Nureyev bites his thigh and then sits back and looks at him. _Go on, Juno. Show me what I do to you._

"Nureyev," Juno pants, and gasps, and comes hot and wet into his hand, folding over on the edge of the bed with a choked off sound and a brilliant, blinding rush of feelings, just as the door to his quarters opens.

Juno shoots upright in a panic, half attempting to hide himself for a moment and ending up frozen with his chest heaving, a mess all over his lap, looking at a Peter Nureyev who looks like he might just burst into flame on the spot.

"...Uh," Juno says, his voice coming out a little too rough. "I, uh..." he says, "I..."

But Peter's face has already changed, the look of shock entirely dissolved. "Oh, Juno," he purrs, the door sliding shut behind him. "No need to explain. Allow me to lend a hand."


	3. clothes sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this, juno is amab & peter is afab. enjoy >:}
> 
> i WAS limiting the word count on these but you know what fuck it ill just write as much or as little as i can think of why not

All things told, Nureyev is very pleased with himself.

He pried himself out of Juno's arms this morning and slipped into his closet. With Juno fast asleep he'd had plenty of time to sort through his belongings and find something appropriate. A pair of boxers; baggy grey sweatpants that are simultaneously too wide around his hips and too short on his legs; a faded navy shirt big enough around the neck that it does little to hide the bruises on his collarbone. He got a roll of the eyes from Vespa, who caught him on the way to deposit his own clothes on the floor of his room, but she said nothing else about it.

It's all worth it, anyway, for the way Juno looks at him when he walks into the kitchen and sees Peter in his clothes.

"Morning, love," Peter says innocently, putting his elbows on the bench so that the shirt falls open around his chest, and battering his eyelashes.

Juno doesn't answer him for a long moment, until Rita, from across the room, yells out, "Helllooooo, Mars to Mista Steel?"

"Morning," Juno leans over the bench to give Peter a kiss, and then leans back just far enough to murmur, "It's literally not legal for you to be doing this to me at breakfast."

"Laws, if you'll recall, have done little to stop me before," Peter replies, grinning sharply.

Juno rolls his eye.

Of course, there's no time for Juno to do anything about it until after their family meeting. The desired outcome, Peter hopes, is that the knowledge of what's awaiting him will leave Juno a desperate, pleading wreck by the time they get back to his quarters. And it all goes masterfully to plan until Juno slides his hand over Peter's inner thigh under the table at the meeting and Nureyev is suddenly lit up like a laser beam.

It's not even enough to be entirely scandalous, which is maddening. Just a dance of Juno's fingers just near his hip, for a moment sliding in close along the crease of his thigh, and then away again before the feeling even properly registers. It shouldn't make Peter swallow and adjust himself in his seat, suddenly warm low in his belly. Then Juno's hand brushes over his knee, and Nureyev looks very intently ahead, refusing to give any sign of the way his stomach stirs at even that.

He can't quite decide whether it's a good or bad thing that his plan seems to have been turned on its head— that is, right up until the moment when, after some miracle gets Peter through the entire meeting without melting, Juno gives him a look and takes his hand, tugging him out of the room down the hallway towards his bunk.

* * *

Nureyev's back hits the wall and Juno crowds up in his space, pinning him with his hips. He's hard against Peter's leg, and it makes Nureyev shiver. He flounders for a moment, and then tries his best to retake control. "My, Juno. I see you've—"

"Shut up," Juno says, and kisses him.

Nureyev makes a strangled sound into Juno's mouth, clutching tight onto Juno's shoulders as he starts to grind himself against Peter's leg. Juno kisses him feverishly, one of his hands sliding under the hem of his shirt, his teeth scraping against Peter's bottom lip.

Then he sticks his hand down the sweatpants, and two of his fingers rub against the wet patch of the boxers Peter's wearing. "Fuck," he breaks from the kiss, "Are these mine?"

"Yes," Peter's voice comes out shaking.

"Fuck," Juno says again, "You have no idea what it does to me knowing you're soaked in my clothes right now."

That's true, Peter _had_ had no idea. If he had, he would've done this weeks ago. Juno teases at Peter's entrance through the slicked up cloth for a moment, occasionally brushing over the hard jut of his dick, before he spins Peter around and pushes him down onto the bed.

Juno doesn't follow him right away. He stands by the side of the bed and takes his belt off, shoving his pants and boxers down his legs the second he's able to. His shirt comes soon after.

"Juno—" Nureyev groans, and reaches for the elastic of the sweatpants, but Juno bats his hands away, pinning his wrists down while climbs onto the bed over him.

"No," he says, "If you like my clothes so much, you keep them on. I want you to come in them. Wanna remember the time I fucked you senseless in them every time I wear them."

He kisses Peter again, and Nureyev wiggles his wrists out of Juno's grip and wraps his arms around Juno's neck, trying to tug him downwards. A second later he's rewarded with the friction of Juno's hips against his own, and he keens.

"Fuck," Juno pants into his ear, rutting against Peter's dick through the sweatpants. Peter's so worked up already it's almost pathetic; he gasps for air and tips his head back, clinging onto Juno for dear life.

Between one thrust and the next, Juno pulls the sweatpants down. Then it's just Juno fucking him through his boxers, and the extra closeness has Peter arching up into Juno, wrapping his legs around Juno's waist.

Peter comes first. He throws his head back with a breathy gasp, his grip so tight on Juno he's worried he'll leave scratches. He's still shaking through it when Juno buries his face into Peter's shoulder and comes across his stomach, half on his own shirt.

They're both sweating and panting when they finally calm down. Juno catches Peter's lips in a messy, lazy kiss. "That's what you get for being a thief," he says, and Peter dizzily thinks to himself that it's a good thing he isn't planning on a career change any time soon.


	4. vampirism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> todays prompt is technically biting but you know what? fuck it. vampire time. cw for blood.
> 
> this is based off that stupid fuckin tweet i made. it went like this "vampire au where junos a vamp & he assumes peters a vampire for ages until he sees him eat human food & hes like uh isnt that gonna fuck you up & peters like what? and junos like i. i thought... but your teeth & peters like ...these are just cosmetic. wait. arent yours?"
> 
> when does this happen in canon? it doesnt fit literally anywhere in canon lol but im thinking it fits into season one, tone-wise.
> 
> im sorry for this being more flirtation than sex lmfao

"So," Peter says, after a prolonged, silent ride home.

Juno shoots him a suspicious look over his shoulder, hanging his coat on the hook by the door. He thinks Juno can see through it— the faked nonchalance, the thinly-veiled facade of innocent curiosity—and he's not sure how he feels about that; if it helps or hurts his cause.

"I've heard a great deal of things about vampires," Peter continues airily, "Most of them, I assume, fiction and rumour. I've never had the chance to clear up some of the urban myths I've heard."

"Uh-huh," Juno says, making it obvious in two syllables that he sees right through Peter. He turns around to face him, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I've heard," Peter continues, undeterred by Juno's clear disapproval, "For example, that being bitten can be, well, a... pleasurable experience. For the bitten. Something akin to a... sexual experience."

Juno narrows his eyes at Peter, "Are you shitting me right now?"

"...I'll take that as a no?"

"No—I mean, is that why you're acting all weird? Is that why you have those fake teeth? You have some sort of elaborate _vampire_ fantasy?"

"You seem to be offended by that idea."

"By being fetishised by some creep with dental implants? Yeah, a little."

"Then let me assure you my interest is purely academic," Peter lies through his (false) teeth. "Juno, please. You know my interest in you isn't solely due to your supernatural nature—you have the hickey to prove it."

Juno slaps at his neck and glares at Nureyev. Peter grins, "Oh dear. No point in playing hard to get, darling, you know as well as I do that if that guard hadn't interrupted—"

"You wanna know about vampirism? We can talk about vampirism," Juno snaps suddenly. He stalks forward and pulls out a chair from across from the table from Nureyev and sits down, "Anything to stop... whatever that sentence was about to end in."

They sit in expectant silence for half a moment. Then it seems to drive Juno past the point of bearing and he says, "To answer your question: yes."

"What?"

"Yes, it's—" Juno pauses, suddenly looking embarrassed, and shrugs. "You know. It feels... good. If the vamp does it right. It's easier if the victim is... compliant, and the blood tastes better without, you know, adrenaline and cortisol and all that stuff."

"I see," Nureyev says, subtly adjusting his collar, "And the mechanism by which it works...?"

"It's, uh. Kind of like a snake, I guess? When pressure is applied to the teeth, say through piercing the skin, they release a flood of hormones into the blood to promote... arousal," Juno flitters his eyes away like a teen talking about taboo subjects.

"Fascinating," Nureyev says, "Does it usually lead to sex?"

"No," Juno says very quickly. "Most of the time it doesn't. Just because a bite can make someone... relaxed... doesn't always mean the vamp wants to fuck them. It's a feeding thing first and foremost. Plus, it can get messy if it's not thought out properly, or the vamp isn't an expert at navigating blood and sex."

"Am I correct in assuming that you classify as an expert, Juno?"

"Shut up," Juno says. Peter smiles and leans back in his chair.

"When's the last time you fed?"

Juno's face seems to go blank for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if my— admittedly poor —knowledge on vampires is accurate, you certainly have the signs. You've been moody all day—"

"Ha! Jokes on you, I'm always moody—"

" _And_ you almost snapped on that guard as we were walking out the door. Don't think I didn't notice, Juno, you were practically salivating. It doesn't take a vampire to figure out that you're hungry."

Juno rolls his eyes, "Is this the point where you—"

"And I'm merely suggesting, Juno, that if you're hungry..." Peter doesn't bother being coy about it; Juno's well and truly figured him out. He batters his eyelashes, "I've always wanted to know what it'd be like."

"You can't be fucking serious."

"Au contraire," Peter says, "why in the world would I not be?"

They stare at each other for a long time; Peter with an orchestrated smirk somewhere between confident and daring, and Juno with a look somewhere disbelieving and desperate.

Finally, Juno breaks eye contact. He licks his lips. "You sure?"

As an answer, Nureyev undoes the top three buttons of his shirt, pulling the fabric aside. Juno's eyes snap to the new expanse of skin right away, and his fingers twitch.

"I want you to know," Juno says, as he pushes his chair back, "That this is the stupidest way I have ever been propositioned in my entire life, and I'm literally immortal. Come here."

Nureyev can't help the thrill of excitement that lights him up as he gets out of his chair and walks around to where Juno is sitting. After a moment of hesitation, Juno reaches forward and guides Peter onto his lap.

Juno reaches up and tilts Nureyev's chin down. He guides their lips together, and Nureyev presses into it, kissing him long and languid before finally parting again.

"I don't know what that has to do with you feeding," he says.

"I don't think you're in this for the feeding part," Juno says back dryly, and Peter laughs.

He stops laughing when Juno's lips skirt over his neck, opting instead for wrapping his arms around Juno's neck and tilting his head away to further expose himself. Juno presses a soft kiss to his pulse point, sending a shiver down Nureyev's spine, and then murmurs, "Your heart's racing."

His voice is rough, and it's suffice to say Nureyev doesn't need the extra encouragement from the hormone cocktail in his teeth to be feeling the effects. "Go on, love," he says.

He feels the flats of Juno's teeth press against his skin, teasing against him with gentle scrapes. He allows the sensation to wash over him for a moment, making a soft gasp at one particularly hard scrape. "Juno..." he warns.

"Gotta find the right spot," Juno mumbles against his neck. He seems a little clouded over, himself, and a moment later he presses an open kiss to a spot on his neck, "You ready?"

"Yes," Peter says.

"Alright. This might sting," Juno says, and then he bites.

Nureyev gasps, clutching tight onto Juno's shirt with both fists at the initial pain, and then feeling himself grow woozy. He hears Juno make a sound like a muffled moan against his skin, and the teeth leave his jugular, Juno's lips pressing against the wound and sucking.

It feels... it feels... fuck. Peter's breath hitches over and over into Juno's shoulder and he clutches on tight to him. It feels like every single movement goes straight to his dick. It feels like he's melting into himself. It feels like he could come just from this, if it went on long enough. He's foggy-headed, vaguely aware he's grinding his hips against Juno helplessly, and then Juno's hands go to his ass and he pulls him closer on his lap.

Peter moans, feeling Juno hard where he's pressed right up against Peter's own dick through his clothes. He grinds down again, rutting himself against Juno's cock, and Juno pulls his mouth away from Peter's skin.

"Fuck," his voice comes out ragged. A droplet of blood rolls down Peter's collarbones, down his chest, and Juno licks the trail with his tongue, all the way back up to lap over the puncture wound again. "You taste so fucking good."

"Take more," Peter pants out, already missing the cloudy-headed feeling, "Bite me again."

"I can't," Juno says. "Gotta be responsible, Nureyev, I already took more than enough."

"But—"

"Can make it up to you another way, though," Juno stands up suddenly, the force of it almost tipping Peter off his lap. He yelps and wraps his legs around Juno's waist, and Juno grabs onto his ass to keep him there. "Bed?" he asks.

"Bed," Peter agrees, breathlessly, and Juno smiles, his sharp teeth painted red with Peter's blood.


	5. deepthroating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is vaguely hardcore? its throat fucking, so. be aware its a bit rough ! i felt like i should throw my hat into the duke/dahlia porn ring, bc those fics are uhhhhh some of my favourites of all time, so.

This is becoming an alarmingly common experience, Duke thinks to himself, as Dahlia lays him flat across the desk.

Or perhaps alarmingly isn't quite the word; it's not like he's complaining. He could never complain, not when Dahlia fixes him with dark, promising eyes and kisses him with urgent lips. It's just, he's beginning to suspect it's possible Dahlia has a thing for sex during the middle of heists.

Duke wraps his legs around Dahlia's waist, his hands gripping abortively at the scattered files on the desk as Dahlia grinds into him through his slacks.

"Dahlia, Dahlia," he croons, the desk creaking with the force of Dahlia's thrusts, "Love, darling, oh _Dahlia_."

"Quiet, Duke," Dahlia reminds him, grabbing onto Duke's shoulders and pulling him back down against his hips with every thrust. "We can't get caught."

It's cute, Dahlia's effort, but he knows as well as Duke does that nothing can shut his mouth when he's like this, especially not the threat of being caught.

"Dahlia, harder, please," Duke arches back, "I need you inside me." He reaches down for the button on his own slacks, trying to tempt Dahlia to fuck him properly, when Dahlia steps back from the desk.

"No," he says.

Duke lifts his head from where it had been hanging almost off the other side of the desk. His glasses are skewed on his face, "No?" it comes out a little more pathetic than he'd planned, but only a little.

"I have a better idea," Dahlia says, and walks around the side of the desk, coming to a stop near Duke's head.

Duke likes this idea. "Yes," he pants, opening his mouth, "Love, please, darling."

Dahlia takes Duke's glasses from his face and sets them aside on the desk. He undoes the button on his slacks, then unzips his fly. He pulls himself out of his briefs, and puts a steadying hand on Duke's chest, "Are you going to be good, Duke?"

"Yes, yes," Duke strains for Dahlia's cock, but Dahlia moves his hips just out of reach.

"I'm going to fuck your throat," he says, and Duke moans theatrically.

"Please, Dahlia, please," he says.

"Do you know what to do to get me to stop?"

Duke's sound now is more frustrated, "Yes Dahlia, of course, now before we get fou—"

He's cut off by Dahlia guiding the head of his cock to his lips. Duke opens his mouth wide, and Dahlia slides himself in, not too deep to start.

Duke is quick to get to work, one hand reaching up to grab at Dahlia's hip, his tongue running along the head of Dahlia's cock, moaning enthusiastically. Dahlia lets Duke work at him for a moment, tipping his head back and sighing. His husband has always known how to use his mouth, for better and for worse.

Then he grows impatient. He moves Duke's hand off of his hip and braces his own hands on the edge of the desk. He pulls his hips back, and then snaps them forwards, thrusting into Duke's throat. Duke makes a gagging sound, and Dahlia groans.

"That's it, Duke, good boy," he pants, not relenting through the fluttering, incredible feeling of Duke's throat constricting around his cock, all brilliant pressure and warmth. Duke's tough; he knows how to stop Dahlia in an instant if anything's too much.

Duke makes some garbled sound, and Dahlia laughs, rough and wavering. He's still trying to talk, even with a cock down his throat. That's his Duke. Dahlia takes one hand off the table and wraps it loosely around Duke's throat. He feels the movement his cock hitting the back of Duke's throat with every thrust, listens to the wet clicks that fall out of Duke's throat every time Dahlia hits home, and the gurgled moans Duke makes along with them.

He's getting close. Dahlia closes his eyes and grips the edge of the table with his free hand, "Perfect, Duke, taking me so well. You want me to come down your throat? Gonna take it like a good boy?"

Duke makes a muffled sound of enthusiastic approval, the vibrations making Dahlia groan. He swallows around Dahlia's cock, and Dahlia's eyes flutter shut. He thrusts a few more times and then presses his hips in, gasping and almost folding over the table as he comes down Duke's throat.

He allows himself just a moment to enjoy the afterglow before he pulls out to let Duke breathe properly. Duke gasps for air, spit covering his mouth and tracks of upside-down tears down his face.

"Oh, Dahlia," his voice comes out broken, and he scrabbles for the button on his pants, sticking his hand down them.

He's going to make an absolute mess of his underwear, but who is Dahlia to stop him? He gets down on his knees, pressing an upside down kiss to Duke's face and stroking away the tears. "You did so well, Duke," he murmurs, "Such a good boy for me. You're alright now, I've got you. Thank you, Duke. I love you."

"I lov-love you, too," Duke pants back, his voice more breath than word, "Oh, Dahlia, _Dahlia_ , Dahlia!"

Dahlia seals his mouth with a kiss as Duke shudders through the orgasm, and peppers him with soft affirmations through the afterglow. When it seems like he's back on Mars, Dahlia helps him up off of the desk, popping his glasses back on his nose before he forgets, and holding him when his knees waver.

It's only when they're halfway back home, the Ruby 7 piloting them back automatically, that Duke suddenly comes fully to his senses, and says, "Did we get what we were there to steal?"

There's silence for a moment. Dahlia looks at Duke with wide eyes and an otherwise blank face. Then Dahlia barks a laugh, and before he knows it Duke is laughing too, until they're both breathless and have aching stomachs.

"Well," Dahlia says, "I suppose we'll just have to go back for round two tomorrow."

Duke grins, "That sounds thrilling, love."


	6. toys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buddy & vespa both have a vagina in this! i love writing for them theyre so in love and nothing bad ever happens to either of them [kicks latest episode under the mat]

"You've been very patient for me, love," Buddy says, and switches the vibrator on.

The honest truth is that Vespa hasn't been very patient at all. Patience is a response to anticipation, a trial of self-restraint — it's not being patient when you're staring up at the love of your life and categorising her every movement: the brush of her fingers against the side of your face; the rise and fall of her chest when she breathes; the way the collarbones you want so badly to put your mouth on move when she sighs your name.

But she goes along with it anyway, whispers Buddy's name hoarsely just to watch her smile. Buddy brings the vibrator to Vespa's chest, teasing it lightly over her sternum and then both her breasts. Vespa twists and sighs, grabbing onto the sheets.

Once upon a time, she would be fully restrained like this; nowadays Vespa likes to have at least two of her limbs free at all times, for emergencies. So she has a spreader bar between her legs, keeping them open while Buddy drags the vibrator lightly over her stomach.

"Bud," Vespa gasps.

Buddy responds by leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. "Darling Vespa," she sighs. Her hair tumbles over her shoulders, so that they're veiled in it together. The sensitive skin of Vespa's stomach jumps, and she squirms. "Very good, love," Buddy assures her.

"I love you," Vespa breathes out, and  _ damnit _ that's the wrong tone, V, too soft and not what Buddy wants to hear right now.

Buddy laughs in her throat and kisses Vespa again, "Even when I have you like this?" she teases, dragging the vibrator up to dance over Vespa's breasts again.

"Yes," Vespa says, "I'm yours, Bud, you can do anything to me. I want you to have me however you like."

Buddy sighs, and brushes her fingers over Vespa's face. "I've got you, love," she says quietly. "All of you. You're being so very good for me, darling. I'll look after you."

Buddy always knows what Vespa needs to hear, almost always knows what Vespa isn't saying — she has that secret talent. She drags the vibrator down, teasing it over Vespa's hips again, and then pressing it against her clit.

Vespa gasps, and her back arches off the bed. Buddy leans down to close her mouth over one of Vespa's nipples, moving the vibrator in tight circles just where Vespa needs it. It's almost a little too much, but Vespa tips her head back and takes it, too focused on the tugging pleasure building in her gut to pay too much mind to the sparks of overstimulation.

"Vespa," Buddy presses a line of kisses up her sternum, and then up the line of her throat. She nips at her skin, the pinch of her teeth working in tandem with the overstimulating vibrations to fill Vespa's body with a combination of pleasure-pain.

Vespa makes a shuddering moan. Her hips buck a little, trying to grind herself against the vibrator Buddy is still moving against her clit. She's not far off coming if Buddy keeps at it like this, her stomach warm and buzzed.

She reaches for Buddy, grabs a handful of hair and tugs a little to get Buddy to travel up to meet her, pressing their lips together.

"Oh, Vespa," Buddy sighs, "I love you, too. I want to see you come for me, love."

Vespa does. It hits her hard and she shudders, her legs straining against the spreader bar as she folds in on herself, gasping. The vibrator goes from pleasurable to painful in an instant, and Buddy doesn't quite let up, Vespa helpless but to let her keep pressing the toy against her clit for a little longer until she's satisfied that Vespa's had enough.

The vibrator buzzes in Buddy's hand until she switches it off and throws it against the bed. "Well done, love," she smiles, leaning down to kiss Vespa once.

Vespa puts both her hands over her eyes and breathes for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Buddy puts a hand on her chest. "Alright?" she asks, "Not too much?"

Vespa shakes her head. "Alright," she says, and then reaches her arms out again, grabbing at Buddy's thighs. "C'mere," she says. "Sit on my face."

"Well," Buddy says, her hands drifting to her briefs and beginning to pull them down her hips, "With an offer like that, love, how can I refuse?"


	7. rough sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so fucking long, good god. anywaysss cw obviously this is fairly rough sex! there's dirty talk and some (light) breath play/pain play.

Nureyev is watching him work again.

It shouldn't be an issue except it is, very much, because Juno can't concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. The sun has gone down and Rita has gone home, and purple light from the sign on the brothel across the road is flooding in through the slits in the blinds and dripping down what Juno can see of Nureyev.

And that's part of it—he can see a light smirk on Peter's face, can tell those dark eyes are trained on him, but the rest of him is half-obscured by shadow. He looks slick and dangerous and mysterious: a combination that is not brilliant for  _ finishing this goddamn form. _

It's also because this isn't the first time that this has happened. He can already feel phantom memories of Peter's hands sliding down his body. He bites the end of his pen to shake the thoughts and frowns down at the paper.

He hears the sliding of clothes and a shiver runs down his spine. His whole body tenses in preparation for touch as Peter steps over to him, his heels clicking on the floor.

"Juno," Nureyev murmurs, and slides his arms around Juno's neck from behind. "What are you doing?"

"My job," Juno grumbles at him. "You know, the thing I do so I can earn money. Honestly. So I can keep the lights on for the apartment. The one I share with my broke boyfriend."

Peter chuckles into his neck, and presses a warm kiss to the skin. "Sounds terrible," he says.

"He is," Juno says back. "Fussy as all hell. Attention-seeking. Distracting, too," he adds in a half-huff as Peter's sharp teeth nip at a faded bruise.

"Distraction sounds more like a bonus, to me," Peter says, because of course he does, and leans back to spin Juno's chair around.

"Yeah, for you," Juno complains even with Peter Nureyev crawling into his lap. "I have work to do, you know."

"I know," Peter says. He tugs absentmindedly on Juno's tie, a perfectly innocent movement except it isn't, and neither is the way his fingers smooth invisible wrinkles from Juno's button down, or tug slightly on the strap of his suspenders on the way up. He meets Juno's eyes and shifts his hips,  _ innocently _ getting comfortable.

"Oh, Juno," Nureyev grins sharply at the feeling of Juno semi-hard underneath him, "I didn't realise you'd be this easy to rile up."

Yes, he did. Juno rolls his eyes and tips his head back in the chair, which is the wrong move because Peter's mouth is on it before he has a chance to change his mind.

"Juno," he mumbles against Juno's skin, as he bites hard at a sensitive spot on Juno's neck. A sigh escapes Juno's throat before he can stop it.

"Goddamnit," Juno mumbles at the roof, mentally making a note to clear a space tomorrow to finish the night's paperwork.

Then he pushes Peter back just far enough to pull him in again and collide their mouths together.

Peter smiles into Juno's mouth, pressing him back far enough in the chair that it wobbles for a moment. Their teeth click and they pull away again.

"You're insufferable," Juno breathes, before he grabs Peter by the collar and pulls him in again. Nureyev's response, apparently, is to roll his hips against Juno's, making him moan. He can't even play at being frustrated for too long, certainly not with Nureyev grinding against him incessantly. He breaks from the kiss and leans his head back, letting Nureyev run his teeth over his throat again. He'll be all marked up by tomorrow, but trench coats have collars you can flip up for a reason, and it doesn't matter anyway. He wants to give into him, let him decorate him with as many marks as he wants to make.

Nureyev reaches out with one hand, and Juno can't see and doesn't care where it's headed until Nureyev slots a key into the lock on his desk drawers and pulls one open.

Juno twists his head as far as he can with those sharp teeth still on him and then goes still. "Are you kidding me?" he asks.

Nureyev grins and sits back in his lap. He pulls the strap out from the drawer, "What? Too dramatic?"

"Did you break into my office and plant that in there?" Juno pants, and gets nothing but a wink for his efforts.

"A thief never tells his secrets," he says, and then climbs out of Juno's lap. "On the desk for me, darling."

"You can't tell me what to do," Juno mumbles, and Peter raises an elegant eyebrow and waits patiently until Juno huffs and gets out of the chair, hoisting himself up onto the desk.

Nureyev grins. Juno glares, "You're a little too into me doing what you tell me to," he accuses.

"You're a little too into doing what I ask," Nureyev counters, and undoes the button on his pants. Juno can't bother thinking of a snarky reply as he watches Peter push his pants down just enough to attach the strap to himself.

It's a state of the art cock, and not just because even looking at it makes Juno shiver with memories of orgasms past. It attaches to fixtures implanted on his skin, seamlessly linking with his nerves without the hassles of harnesses or wires. Nureyev wraps his fist loosely around it and flicks his thumb over the head, looking at Juno like he's undressing him with his eyes. Juno swallows and gestures for Peter to come closer.

Nureyev grins and steps close enough for Juno to wrap his legs around him. Nureyev doesn't miss a beat, his hands reaching down to unsnap Juno's suspenders and slide a hand down his pants. "How do you want it, love?" he asks, while Juno's still a little too distracted to answer properly.

Nureyev's deft fingers are making quick work of dissolving the rest of Juno's ability to play disinterested. He goes to speak once, twice, before "make me fucking scream, Nureyev," finally tumbles out of his mouth, and Nureyev pushes him back down on the desk with a flutter of loose sheets of paper.

"Oh, Juno," Nureyev mumbles, pushing his shirt up with one hand while he tugs Juno's pants and boxers down with the other, "Is that what you want?"

"Please," Juno pleads, lifting his own hands to start to unbutton his shirt, "Break this fucking desk, choke me, fuck my brains out,  _ please _ ."

Nureyev helps pull Juno's shirt off, with some manhandling, and then presses him back down into the desk again. Juno squirms under Nureyev's hands, spreading his legs. He hears the click of a lube cap, and shudders.

"As you wish," Nureyev smiles dangerously, and presses two fingers into Juno at once.

"Ah—" Juno arches a little at the pleasure-pain, and tips his head back. He breathes through it, little whines leaving his throat as he adjusts to the stretch. He loves it when Nureyev is rough with him, and tonight it seems Nureyev has no intention of letting up. He fucks his fingers mercilessly into Juno, and when he hits his prostate Juno almost shouts.

"More," Juno gasps out, "Fuck."

Nureyev lets out a low chuckle, the one he makes that makes Juno think of danger and brings him that much closer to coming before Peter even has a chance to get his cock in him. He strokes against Juno's prostate, and Juno whimpers, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach.

"Look at you," Nureyev purrs, "Spread out like this. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you, Juno? Anything as long as it makes you come."

"Yeah," Juno says raggedly, "Please."

"Always begging, too, aren't you? Darling, you're simply filthy," Nureyev leans down and presses a kiss to Juno's lips, and then presses a third finger in against the other two. "And gorgeous," he adds, over the sound of Juno's whine. "My pretty girl."

"Nureyev," Juno groans, "Want you to fill me up, please."

That chuckle again. Juno gasps and moans, feeling himself slip a notch further into subspace. He doesn't care what happens, he just needs to fucking come, and he needs it to be fast and hard and make his brain take twenty minutes to fully recover.

It feels like an age of Juno moaning and pleading and teasing grazes over his prostate before Nureyev finally pulls his fingers out and begins to slick up his cock. When the head presses into him, Juno groans low and long.

"Juno," Nureyev grabs tight onto his hips, sliding further inside, "Love, you feel so good." He bottoms out and sighs shakily, and Juno can barely focus on him. Nureyev's cock is the perfect size to make him feel full and satisfied, and he closes his eyes.

"Alright?" Nureyev asks, and Juno nods.

"Good," Peter says, and then snaps his hips back and thrusts into him.

" _ Ah _ ," Juno squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth wide open and his hands balling into fists. Nureyev sets a pace that makes it hard for him to get enough breath to moan, every thrust of his hips punching the air out of Juno's lungs. Every time he fucks into him, the desk shakes and makes a quiet thud and squeak of protest, and apart from that, Nureyev's harsh breathing and Juno's choked off moans are the only sounds in the room.

"Yes," Juno manages at last, "Yes, yes, yes, fu—uck."

"You like that?" Nureyev's voice is rough and low, and Juno nods.

"Can feel you so fucking deep," he gasps out, "Feels so fucking good."

"Do you want me to choke you?" Nureyev asks, and Juno groans and nods again.

Nureyev reaches down and wraps his hand loosely around Juno's throat. He doesn't hold too hard— partly on account of Juno's lungs and partly, he suspects, so that Juno can still groan repetitions of his name, and 'yes, yes, yes', and 'oh my fucking god'—but it still feels amazing, being pinned down while Peter fucks him.

"Harder," Juno hiccups out, and Nureyev wraps his spare arm around one of Juno's thighs, lifting it up so the angle shifts and Juno shouts.

" _ Juno _ ," Peter growls, and that's the first indicator Juno gets of how close Nureyev really is. The pace is too intense for Juno to open his eyes and focus on Nureyev's face, but he can imagine it—the teeth shining in the low light, his mouth open while he pants and his hair in his face.

The image has something tight coiling in the bottom of Juno's gut, and he moans so loud he half expects the upstairs apartment to thump on the roof. "Nureyev," he whines, "Nureyev, 'm gonna fucking come."

"Good girl," Nureyev says, and lets go of Juno's neck to wrap his hand around his other thigh, lifting it up and leaning over Juno so he's almost folded in half. "Go on, love, come for me."

Juno tips his head over the back of the desk and sobs as he comes all over himself. The orgasm races through his body, lighting up every nerve, and Nureyev's thrusts get sharper and harder before he buries himself in Juno and things happen all at once.

Firstly, Nureyev comes, his groan echoing in Juno's ears at the same time as one side of the desk gives way suddenly and with a shout and a large crash Juno ends up on the floor with Nureyev wrapped in his arms, bewildered.

There's a long moment of silence. Juno fights to catch his breath and piece together exactly what's happened. Then, "Nureyev," he says. "When I said to break the desk, I wasn't fucking talking literally."

"I wish I could take the credit for that one," Nureyev gets on his arms over Juno, and Juno only realises he's still inside of him when he pulls out, prompting a soft sound and a wince from Juno, "But I'm afraid it did that quite on its own."

There's another beat of silence. Then they both start laughing.

"What a way to spoil the afterglow," Juno mumbles, and collapses back into the ground. He sighs, a smile still dancing on his face, "We absolutely have to fix this up before Rita sees," he adds, and Nureyev starts laughing again.


	8. mutual masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually an old fic i reworked! i don't know if i like it as much so if you do then.... let me know 🥺
> 
> cw: peter is afab and fingers himself in this

“You know most of this shit is fake, don’t you?”

Peter glanced up from the bed to see Juno waving a tube of one of his favourite hand creams. It was cherry-blossom scented and very, very expensive. He frowned, “I’ll pardon your insinuation that I go in for the kinds of products you see advertised in Hyperion City. My hands don’t get this soft by using a fake hand cream.”

“No, they get that soft by using twenty different fake hand creams,” Juno walked over to where Peter was sitting and ducked down to kiss him, “You’re so extra,” he muttered when he parted, not without an overly fond tone to his voice. “I bet you’re the kind of guy who lights candles and puts on soft music just to masturbate to.”

Nureyev raised an imperial eyebrow, “Is that meant to be an insult? What if I told you you strike me as the kind of lady who likes to jerk off joylessly in the shower?”

This drew an insulted shout from Juno, who tackled Nureyev to the bed. The resulting scuffle ended when Juno flipped Nureyev over to kiss him, and then pulled back and punched him lightly, “Asshole,” he said. “I can do candles too, thank you very much.”

“Is that so? I’d be delighted to see any proof of that.”

Juno’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He grinned slowly at Nureyev, pinned under him, and said, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Peter laughed, and drew Juno into a soft kiss, and smiled, letting his sharp teeth show, “I’d like that.”

…Which is how a stupid joke led to Peter actually showing Juno his masturbation routine.

It was about as extra as Juno expected, not that he complained to see Nureyev in a sleek leather harness and black lace underwear.

“How come I’ve never seen that on you before?” Juno grumbled as Nureyev sat himself on the bed.

Nureyev’s smile was very mysterious and very pleased, “Some things I like to keep to myself.”

“No fair,” Juno crawled up the bed to kiss him.

Nureyev kissed him back for a moment, before pushing him gently away, “Now, now,” he purred, “Look but don’t touch, my love.”

Reluctantly, Juno sat back and gestured for Peter to take the lead.

“Thank you,” Nureyev said, closing his eyes, and the show began.

Nureyev’s long fingers glided over the straps of his harness, tugging gently with one hand while the other slid down his stomach. His legs spread, and his lithe fingers dusted over the skin of his inner thigh.

Close in, far out. His fingers played along the soft skin right up to the line of his briefs, back down halfway towards his knees. Eventually the second hand joined the first, and when Nureyev’s fingers striped up along his briefs one leg twitched slightly.

One of his hands slid gently between his legs, and Nureyev’s whole face softened, a tiny contented sigh leaving him before he returned his fingers to his thigh again.

He was… breathtaking. Juno was half-hard in his boxers already, just watching Nureyev wind himself up. Every time he gave his dick the barest of touches, his eyebrows would quirk closer together, he’d let a soft breath out. Juno wanted to get his mouth on him so badly it hurt.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and met Juno’s gaze straight on. Those bright-dark, impish eyes pinned Juno in place, the small facetious smile that curled onto his face a second later made breathing difficult.

Nureyev rubbed himself through his briefs with two fingers and let his eyes close again, his head falling back against the wall. Juno’s whole body buzzed like a tuning fork.

He was a fucking sight: legs spread and hand between them. His back was arched to show off every inch of his pretty harnessed chest rising in slow, even breaths, and then falling in a stuttering rhythm.

Nureyev’s hips lifted, and he pulled down his briefs.

Juno’s breath evaporated from his lungs. On top of how hot Nureyev already looked strung out and enjoying himself, Juno could now see the glossy wetness between his thighs, the exact places he touched himself in.

Peter’s first touch of himself without his briefs came with a gentle gasp, and Juno felt his dick twitch in response.

“Fuck, Nureyev,” he breathed.

The response he got was the glimpse of a smug smile, and Peter slid one finger down through his folds to his entrance before pulling it away, trailing a line of slick back up towards his dick.

“Juno,” he groaned softly, rubbing his dick with that finger, leaving it wet and shining. Nureyev bit his lip and looked through his eyelashes at Juno, “Love. Take your pants off.”

Juno rushed to comply, his fingers fumbling over the button. Nureyev laughed at him a little when he almost toppled over, but then he was sitting in his boxers on his knees and Nureyev's eyes trailed down his body.

"Darling," Nureyev enthused, pressing into his dick with two fingers and rubbing, "You look amazing."

"Wanna touch myself," Juno panted. "Want to come with you."

"Of course," Nureyev allowed, and Juno let out a rush of air and pulled himself out of his boxers.

He twisted his wrist around himself, letting a thumb brush over the head of his cock. Nureyev gestured him to come closer, and Juno crowded in close, a knee on either side of Nureyev's hips. With one hand, Nureyev pulled Juno down into a kiss.

When they parted, Nureyev sighed. Juno glanced down and watched as he reached down and slid a finger inside of himself. With his other hand, he pulled Juno into a kiss again. He moaned softly into Juno's mouth, and Juno tightened the hand around himself.

"You're so sexy," Juno muttered against his lips when they parted, and Nureyev gave him a little smile, his fangs peeking out.

"Do you like watching me?" he asked, as if Juno could possibly look away. Nureyev rubbed his thumb over his dick while his fingers - two of them now - slid in and out of him.

"Yeah," Juno stroked himself a little faster, moving his hand in tandem with the pace of Nureyev's fingers. "Fuck."

Nureyev's breath was coming a little faster, now. Juno watched his chest rise and fall, listened to the wet sounds of Peter fucking himself. Nureyev groaned a little, and arched his back a tiny bit. "Juno," he said softly, "Oh, love."

"Yeah," Juno said again, his voice coming out a little hoarse. He was leaking now, and a tension was starting up in the bottom of his gut, making him feel like fucking his fist.

Nureyev gasped and tipped his head back, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Juno," he said again, and his breath hitched.

He was close, and Juno leaned down to catch his lips again, stroking himself tighter and faster. He moaned a little, leaning back to watch Nureyev. "You're so pretty," he said. "Are you gonna come?"

Nureyev leaned his head back further and nodded slightly. Juno twisted the fingers on the hand he didn't have around his dick into the harness Peter was wearing and tugged hard.

Nureyev gasped and moaned suddenly, his torso twisting against the sheets and the harness as he came. Juno held onto the harness through it, the sight of Nureyev coming enough to push Juno over the edge himself. With a groan, he finished on Nureyev's stomach, his head falling into Peter's shoulder while the aftershocks ran through his body.

After a moment to catch his breath, Juno leaned back. The view was phenomenal: Peter still breathing hard, with cum on his stomach trailing down to where his fingers were still inside of himself. As Juno watched, Nureyev took his fingers out and grinned a little breathlessly at him.

"I think I'm going to start wearing this harness more," he said, and Juno laughed.

"Is that what did it? Did you come because I tugged on your harness?"

Nureyev shrugged his shoulders and sat up, reaching for the tissue box on the side of the bed. "I do so love it when you show off how strong you are," he said, and Juno squinted at him.

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing," Juno leaned forward to take the tissues out of Nureyev's hands, taking over the task of cleaning up his stomach. He smiled to himself as he did it, and then leaned in to press a kiss to Nureyev's lips. "I just love you."

Nureyev lit up, like he always did whenever Juno admitted those little words, and pulled Juno into a kiss again.


	9. wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! sorry everyone! i have not been in an ideal space and ive been suffering from a lot of imposter syndrome that made me feel that my writing wasn't good enough to bother continuing. but i want to get back into it! and what a way to combat imposter syndrome straight on than this prompt jhdfgj...
> 
> in the spirit of collaboration, i literally ripped the start of this prompt out of megs hands LMAO. everything in italics at the start is their writing, and i wasn't sure about posting this bc of imposter syndrome once again. but then i decided idgaf. wing kink supremacy!
> 
> if somehow u haven't read standing in the light of your halo, close this tab IMMEDIATELY and go do it, you will thank me later

_Juno reaches out to brush his hand against the feathers, half-expecting to find empty air. But against all odds, they're real, soft and warm and twitching just a little beneath his touch. He brushes his hand down the length of it, fingers rustling the feathers and making the star-spots sway. The whole wing curves and bends, cocooning the two of them together. He catches one of the longest feathers at the tip between his fingers, feeling the soft network of ridges, then turns his attention back to the soft downy feathers closer to his shoulder._

_It's a little nervewracking, brushing his rough, scarred hands over something so soft and alive. It's even harder to draw his focus back to the worries that were plaguing him a moment ago, especially with the angel panting in his ear. "Is this...should I..?"_

_"It's nothing," Raziel says, a little hoarsely. "Only...perhaps I should have warned you, they're quite, uh." The wing twitches back as he brushes his hand along the underside again. "Sensitive," Raziel finishes, his jaw trembling ever so slightly._

_"I'm not...hurting you, am I?" Juno pulls his hand away like he's been burned, and Raziel shakes his head._

_"No, no." Raziel's tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Quite the opposite, actually."_

_Oh._ Oh. _Juno's breath catches in his throat, and he reaches out to touch them again, watches the stars dance beneath his fingertips while Raziel shudders, shifting until he's practically in Juno's lap, face pressed into the crook of his neck._

Juno runs his fingers experimentally along the innermost feathers on one of Raziel's wings, and the angel lets out a broken sigh, shifting himself in Juno's lap.

"Is that nice?" Juno asks, and Raziel nods into his neck.

"Keep going," he murmurs, and then proceeds to make that very hard. He scrapes his teeth against Juno's skin, and then sucks a bruise into his throat.

Juno's fingers wander to different spots on Raziel's wing, testing each little patch of feathers. He feels the whole wing twitch whenever he lays his fingers against it. The feathers are the same consistency everywhere: soft and impossibly beautiful. He touches one place and Raziel's hips roll forward with a low groan of, " _Yes_."

"Good, Juno," Raziel sighs when Juno doesn't let up on the spot. "My perfect, sweet pet. It feels incredible when you touch me."

Juno doesn't know how to respond to that— not with Raziel's hips grinding against his own so incessantly, or with the way the praise curls low in his gut, or the way Raziel is so _beautiful_ clutching to Juno in his lap, his lips parted and eyes hazy, glowing faintly like he can't help ethereal beauty from spilling out of him. So instead of answering, Juno groans, grabs onto Raziel's shirt with his spare hand and pulls him into a kiss.

Raziel's hands cup the sides of Juno's face. The kiss pulls sound after sound out of Juno's throat; it's desperate and dirty. Juno reciprocates by putting each of his hands against the sensitive spots on both of Raziel's wings, and Raziel breaks from the kiss to collapse into Juno's shoulder with a wanton moan.

"Oh, fuck," Juno pants. "Fuck. Are you gonna come? Just from this?"

"I—" Raziel pants, "I— _oh, Ju—no._ "

"Fuck," Juno murmurs again. The angel's hips are snapping into Juno's own with more force, less rhythm. He's trembling lightly, and his arms are wrapped around Juno's torso.

"Raziel," Juno sighs. He leans down to press a kiss to Raziel's neck, and then brushes all his fingers along the downy part of Raziel's wings again.

"Oh," Raziel gasps raggedly, "Juno. Oh— _oh_."

"Yeah," Juno says. "Come on, Raziel. You gonna come in my lap? Before I even get my hands in your pants?"

Juno reaches around the back of Raziel's wings and runs his fingers around the junction of where they attach to Raziel's shoulder. Raziel jolts, and presses his body against Juno's with a soft whine. "Yes," he moans, "Oh yes. Yes... _oh."_

He shudders against Juno, and Juno realises, dizzily, that Raziel really _is_ coming in his lap. He wraps his arms around Raziel's back and holds him while he rolls his hips a few more times into Juno's lap and then sighs, falling completely into Juno's arms.

Juno closes his eyes. He knows what a wet mess Raziel's briefs must be under his pants, and his hips are pressed right up against Juno's cock, hard in his pants. He's aching to get inside Raziel somehow— with his fingers or tongue, maybe—

"Raziel," he gasps suddenly, as he feels Raziel's fingers making quick work of the button on his pants. Then his head hits the back of the couch a second later as Raziel pulls him out and wraps a fist around his cock.

"Juno," Raziel purrs, close to his ear. "How do you feel about me riding you til you can barely move?"

In response, Juno lets out a strangled groan, and Raziel laughs and starts to undo his pants.


	10. comeplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. there was a prompt on this list that was breeding kink, and i wasn't super comfortable writing that. so then i j. i just.
> 
> i just made the prompt 'cum' instead. so. enjoy this?
> 
> weirdly, this is like the shortest one i've written so far, but tbh i think. that's really all that needs to be written LMAO? i can't think of how i'd make it longer
> 
> EDIT: IF ANYONE SAW ME EDIT THE TITLE BC IT AUTOCORRECTED ON MY COMPUTER SHUT THE FUCK UP  
> edit..... if anyone saw me have to edit the title three fucking times because i am jared, 19, then please please shut the fuck up

“Oh,” Juno pants, “Oh, oh, _fuck._ ”

Juno folds over Nureyev’s back with a low groan and thrusts his hips forward into him. His grip is tight on Nureyev’s hips, and his cock pulses inside of Nureyev’s body. Nureyev moans with him as he comes, gripping tight on the slats of the headboard as he feels warmth spill inside of him. His own body throbs in response to the sensation, and he pulls his bottom lip through his teeth, feeling full and slick and sated.

Except he’s not sated - not quite. He hasn’t come yet, and when Juno sighs a soft, “Oh, God,” and pulls out, Nureyev first shivers at the friction of Juno’s cock, then tries not to make his disappointment too obvious.

He feels a rush of wetness between his legs, and glances down at himself to see a string of sticky white dripping from between his thighs. The sight makes him a little light-headed, and he reaches down to catch it in two of his fingers.

“Like that, don’t you?” Juno mutters near his ear, and Nureyev decides not to deign him an answer. He only brings the extra wetness up to rub at his dick. He’s already so close. He tips his head back and moans softly, feeling his body start to tense in preparation for orgasm.

Then Juno shifts behind him, and Nureyev gasps at the feeling of the head of his cock pressing gently back at his entrance, then cries out when Juno slides fully back into him again. He can’t stop himself. “ _Juno_ ,” he gasps, and feels himself clench up around Juno’s dick, trembling and gasping as orgasm takes over his body.

“ _Oh,_ ” Juno moans softly at the feeling of Peter clenching down around his cock, and then groans and laughs, “You didn’t think we were done, did you, baby?”

Nureyev just moans shakily again. He’s mostly beyond caring about thinking straight, let alone being discrete, so he just raises his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean while Juno starts to move.


	11. cockwarming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prompt is similar to the last one but i do not care. wow it turns out the cure to my writers block was just to make nureyev a bottom. that's a joke for legal reasons
> 
> EDIT: oh hey look! officially passed the 10k word count

"Alright?" Juno murmurs, low and amused in Peter's ear.

_ No, things are not quite alright, _ is what Nureyev wants to snap back, because Juno's cock has been inside him for the past fifteen minutes without him moving once.

He's lying behind Nureyev, with his arm over his waist. This morning started off so well, too, with Juno nestling up behind him, his dick hard in his boxers and murmuring an enticing promise in Nureyev's ear.  _ I've been thinking about you saying you'd like to be teased. Wanna try that out? _

It had seemed like a hot idea at the time, but he'd forgotten that part of the appeal of being teased was this utter  _ torture _ .

"Perfectly fine, love," Nureyev manages back, trying not to let his voice shake.

Juno chuckles. He shifts and presses his lips to the back of Nureyev's neck. Even the slightest movement of his body makes Nureyev whimper. He feels himself throb around Juno's cock.

"Good boy," Juno sighs softly, "Staying nice and still for me. You have no idea how good you feel, babe. Warm and wet for me."

Nureyev shudders uncontrollably, feeling himself throb again. He closes his eyes and tries not to focus on the burning-aching feeling of want between his legs, on how badly he wants Juno to pin him to the mattress and fuck him. Juno's cock fills him right up, and he wants to grind down, or touch himself or do  _ literally anything, please. _

Nureyev opens his eyes again as Juno runs a hand along his side. Okay. So he failed about not focusing on how much he wants Juno, but it's hard to think about anything else.

Then Juno's hand slips around to dust his fingers over Nureyev's lower stomach. Nureyev's breath hitches and shakes.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Juno asks softly.

"Yes," Nureyev moans.

"You're gonna have to ask a little nicer than that, babe," he can hear the grin in Juno's voice, and Nureyev clamps his mouth shut.

After a second of silence, Juno laughs breathlessly, and kisses his shoulder. "Stubborn," he says. "Alright. I'll let you go this once," his fingers slide lower, and lower, until Nureyev gasps and arches, trying to move his hips to get some friction from Juno inside him. "But you're definitely gonna have to beg if you want me to fuck you," Juno continues.

Nureyev almost doesn't make sense of the words; he's too busy trying to feel as much as he can between two of Juno's fingers on his dick and the way Juno is letting him rock his hips minutely on Juno's cock.

"So hard for me," Juno praises. "Fuck. You feel so good."

Juno's starting to rock his own hips, just a little, and Nureyev moans long and low into his pillow. His mouth hangs open, and Juno makes a huffing groan into his ear.

His walls contract around Juno's cock and Juno huffs again. He stills his own hips, but touches Nureyev even harder, sliding his dick between two of his fingers so that Nureyev squirms.

"Oh Juno," Nureyev pants, "Oh,  _ oh _ ."

Every touch runs through his whole body. He's been left so desperate by the teasing that soon he can feel something strong and deep gathering in his belly, and he moans and arches back against Juno. "Oh, love, love, oh, darling—"

Nureyev trips over the edge suddenly. He gasps raggedly and shudders as he comes, and Juno groans as he contracts around Juno's cock. The orgasm leaves him fuzzyheaded just enough that he isn't quite fully recovered from it when he hears himself saying, "Juno—please, Juno. I need you, love, I need—  _ Juno _ —"

"Fuck," Juno groans, and rolls them over to press Nureyev down into the blankets. "That's more like it, babe," he says, just a little amused, before he begins to fuck him into the mattress.


	12. nipple play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually a direct lead-on from the fic i just posted named 'pull me in on a crisp eve, baby', so...... consider checking that out
> 
> if you've read this scene before, i extended on it for this fic so ;)
> 
> TW! Nureyev doesn't have top surgery in this fic and is not dysphoric about his chest. HOWEVER his chest doesn't actually play into the sex much; this prompt focuses more on Juno. It is mentioned though! So keep that in mind.

They do get to be shirtless under more pleasant conditions, after all.

“Can I take this off?” Juno asks, running his hands up the warm skin of Peter’s back while Peter straddles his hips. He's breathless and kiss bitten and wants to see every inch of Nureyev. Taste every inch of him too, if he'll let him -- he's already fantasising about having Nureyev come on his tongue.

“Please do,” Nureyev shakes him out of his thoughts, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

Juno unhooks his bra and lets it fall away from him, reaching up to press kisses to Nureyev’s collarbones before he leans back and looks.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re sexy.”

It’s all of him -- the plane of his stomach and the way his boobs sit and the sternum between them and the collarbones under his skin and his neck and his sharp jaw and-- Juno doesn’t get any more time to admire the view. Peter pushes him back down onto the bed and chases after him with his lips.

Nureyev's hands travel over Juno's body like he's trying to see him with his fingertips. They slide over his belly, squeeze at his hips, and slide up over his tits. Juno groans into his mouth when Peter pulls at the barbells through his nipples, his cock throbbing where Peter’s thigh is pressing into it. 

“You’re loud, aren’t you?” Nureyev mutters, and the way it comes out low and rough like growled praise doesn’t make it  _ sound  _ like a criticism but Juno laughs a little breathlessly anyway while Nureyev mouths under his jaw.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” he says, “I can tone it back.”

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev presses his thigh into Juno’s cock, making him arch and whimper, “Don’t you dare.”

“ _ Mm _ hmm okay,” Juno pants out, “I can do that, too.”

“Good,” Peter purrs, and a melted sound bubbles out of Juno’s mouth.

Juno desperately wants more of Nureyev under his hands. He reaches up. He cups his hands around the back of Peter’s neck, then slides down to his ribs, just near his chest. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes,” Nureyev says, and kisses Juno again while Juno cups Nureyev's tits in his hands and swipes the pad of his thumb over one of Nureyev’s nipples.

Apart from a sound that might be a sigh, Nureyev doesn’t seem to react, and when they part from the kiss, Juno whispers hoarsely, “That alright?”

“It’s fine,” Nureyev reassures him, and then smiles with one corner of his mouth, “I’m just not quite as sensitive there as you seem to be."

As if to demonstrate, Nureyev runs his thumbs over Juno's tits again, playing with the piercings so that Juno whimpers and feels his cock twitch. "Point taken," he gasps. "You mind if I touch you somewhere a little more... sensitive, then?"

Nureyev laughs and kisses him, "Not at all."

Juno snakes his hand down to squeeze at Nureyev through his boxers, and shudders at the feeling of silicone through the cloth. He feels Nureyev's grin near his collarbones. 

"Do you want me inside you, love?" Nureyev asks.

"Yeah," Juno breathes, "Fuck. Yeah, I do."

Nureyev sits up on his heels on the bed and Juno props himself up on his elbows and just _looks_ at him again. His lipstick is smudged a little, but his smile is smug like having Juno turn to putty in his arms is the most satisfying thing he's ever accomplished. Juno's eyes trail down his chest again to the tent made by the packer in his boxers, and he swallows. It looks... big.

Honestly, he thinks to himself somewhere in the back of his hazy mind, that tracks. Only the showiest for Peter Nureyev.

Quick as a whip, Nureyev leans over the side of the bed. Juno can't see exactly where his hand is, but he figures it's somewhere within the pile of discarded clothes they left haphazardly tossed aside, and his thoughts are confirmed when Nureyev returns with a small bottle of lube. 

Nureyev slides his boxers off, and Juno's earlier estimates are also confirmed. The packer is perfectly colour matched to his brown skin, and Nureyev twists it into the play position and then slides his hand along the shaft once as if purposely to draw Juno's attention to every smooth inch.

It suits him, Juno thinks as he glances up and takes in the whole picture, from his fangs to his tits to his cock. Every part of Peter Nureyev he can see seems to be carved right out of his fantasies. He's so perfect it almost starts to frighten Juno, a little, because he doesn't _get_ perfect things -- so what's the catch?

"Can I take these off?" with the hand not holding the lube, Nureyev flicks his fingers in the waistband of Juno's briefs, and Juno presses down his spiralling thoughts and nods. Nureyev smiles at him and slides his hand under Juno's thigh, encouraging to lift his hips with a pat on the ass so that he can pull his briefs down and off.

He sees Nureyev's eyes flick between Juno's legs the second he has the underpants dealt with, and sees the way Nureyev sucks in a breath before he glances up at Juno again, reaching out to wrap a hand around his cock at the same time.

"Like what you--uh," is what Juno manages before he groans and lets Nureyev play with his cock, his fingers moving and squeezing in different places until Juno is so busy gasping for breath he almost forgets the rest of what's to come until a slick finger is pressing against his hole.

Juno spreads his legs and looks up to watch as Nureyev presses his finger slowly inside. Nureyev meets his gaze and smiles at him, before he leans up to kiss Juno once again.

"I very much like what I see," Nureyev says against his lips. "You're beautiful, Juno. Every part of you. I never thought--" here, he starts to lay kisses down Juno's throat, across his chest, "I would-- ever meet-- someone as beautiful in every way-- as you." He pauses to hear Juno's whine as he presses a second finger alongside the first, and smiles sharply before he leans down and takes one of Juno's nipples into his mouth.

Juno moans and twists his body just a little, pushing his chest against Nureyev's mouth. Nureyev's tongue pulls against his piercing as his fingers pump into Juno's body, and Juno throws his head back, "God fucking damn."

This is better than the compliments. It looked for a moment there like Peter was close to saying something... something soft, and vulnerable, and Juno isn't-- he can't-- he's not... there yet. At least, he's not willing to admit he's there yet, even if he is. The idea that someone like Nureyev could feel things that gentle for someone like _him_ terrifies him. Not because Juno's a terrible person, but because people saying things like that to him make him not want to be, anymore, and those are scary ideas to put in his head when self-destruction has been his comfort place for twenty-odd years.

Anyway, between Nureyev's mouth sucking and then biting at his tits, and his fingers trying different angles into Juno's body until he hits his prostate, making Juno sob, there's soon no space in his head anymore for thoughts like that. There's just the pleasure, and Nureyev sighing and shifting into the good kind of praise, the sexy kind that sets heat low in his gut and coils in his stomach.

“Juno,” Nureyev’s voice is rough and almost awed, and he leans up from his tits to kiss him, two of his fingers curling up against Juno’s prostate at the same time so that it’s really less of a kiss and more Juno groaning into Peter’s mouth. “Oh, Juno. You are a hundred times more exquisite than I ever could have imagined. Writhing on my fingers like this... I want to fuck you until you can barely move, you gorgeous thing. There are hundreds of beautiful planets I want to take you to, but I could show you them all and still barely match how stunning you are like this.”

“ _Fu-u-ck_ ,” Juno replies, because sorry he’s not at the height of eloquence with someone’s fingers inside of him stroking him while he says things like  _ this.  _ “Fuck me,” he babbles, as Nureyev shifts his tongue and teeth to Juno's chest again, “Need you inside of me--can't wait anymore. Nureyev,  _ fuck _ me.”

Nureyev unseals his mouth from Juno's tits and makes a low sound in his throat, looking up at Juno with hungry eyes, “Whatever the lady demands," he agrees.


	13. voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is sort of a voyeurism/exhibitionism/threesome/juno-worship thing all in one. juno just needs to get doted on!!!
> 
> CWs:  
> 1\. juno & peter's third is a woman. she is not involved with nureyev at all, & that boundary is explicitly set & discussed in the fic.  
> 2\. she is also a no-op trans woman; although i did my research, i am open to constructive criticism if i misstepped at any point.  
> 3\. nureyev is quite possessive in this, but there's no real jealousy; it's more an act and juno is aware of that!
> 
> ALSO. nureyev goes by nureyev in this bc i thought it would be way less sexy if he went by an alias so sue me.

"I really hope we don't get any unwanted attention," Juno mutters, adjusting the bottom of his dress where it's riding up his thighs. "That's the last thing I want to deal with tonight."

"Please, Juno," Nureyev presses a kiss to his cheek, "Of course we will. You look stunning."

Juno smiles, "Not bad yourself, Nureyev. This was a good idea."

Buddy Aurinko's parting advice to both Nureyev and Juno was that the two of them should find time to  _ be a couple _ . Have a date every now and then. Treat each other to something special. Not let the romance die out between the two of them.

They'd—well, actually, they'd largely forgotten Buddy's advice. Life being the way life is, moving from one technically-impossible record-breaking heist to the next, there hadn't been much chance to take time off. And like all relationships; without care and tenderness things had started to get tense and snappy, and both of them hated when they fight with each other. It was Rita, in the end, who sat them both down and forced them to take a night off. Nureyev had only been involved in the idea as far as choosing the venue: a lucrative, high-end love hotel, complete with a night club in place of a lobby.

Juno had hated the idea at first, but only because when Nureyev had suggested it, Rita's mouth dropped open and she started that low-pitch squealing which quickly snowballed into a high-pitch squeal and shout of, "Mistah Nureyev! How  _ scandalous!" _

For all his complaint, though, Juno had had no issue with dressing himself up in one of his favourite lingerie sets and throwing this obscenely short golden minidress over the top. He'd had no complaint when Nureyev had seen him in it and decided to start the night's... festivities... then and there in their quarters, either.

And it's nice. Nureyev makes a show of buying the drinks even though he uses their joint bank account to do it. Juno gets sim-whiskey on the rocks (none of the alcohol and all of the terrible taste) and Nureyev gets a glass of champagne. Nureyev flirts and Juno undresses him with his eyes, and it's not more than forty minutes before they both start thinking about getting a room, and just as they go to walk off, their  _ unwanted attention _ of the evening shows up.

She's a confident looking woman in a dress that does more to expose her body than cover it. Nureyev briefly thinks he may actually have one just like it. Her hair is twisted into a bun, her skin is just a few shades darker than Nureyev's own, and she rakes her dark eyes down them both.

" _ Hello _ lady and gentleman," she drawls. "Looking for a third?"

Nureyev can tell Juno's attracted to her by the way his eyes get caught on her mouth, trail down to her breasts, and rake down to the hem of her dress, before he glances back up at her. He's never quite perfected the art of not wearing everything he feels on his face, his dear Juno. Usually this sort of thing would make Peter jealous, but something about her offer stirs an idea in him.

"No thanks, lady," Juno says, at the same time as Peter says, "Possibly."

Juno looks at Nureyev quickly, "Uh, babe? What?"

Nureyev looks at him evenly, "I can't say the thought has never crossed my mind before."

The lady looks between them both, "You two need a minute to talk this out?"

"Thanks," Juno says to her, and grabs Peter by the wrist, pulling him over to the side of the room.

"What are you talking about?" Juno asks.

"A threesome," Nureyev answers calmly, and Juno shakes his head.

"No— I mean— okay, yes, technically, but. I thought you...  _ you _ know. Sleep with... men. Like, basically exclusively, right?"

Nureyev shrugs a shoulder dismissively, "You're attracted to her?"

"Yeah, but— you're not."

"Not particularly," Nureyev admits, and Juno's face sets like the matter is settled until Nureyev continues, "But I wouldn't mind if she watched."

Juno pauses. He looks Nureyev over as though analysing him. "Really?"

Nureyev shrugs again, "There is..." he steps forward, crowding into Juno's space to press him against the wall, "Something rather enticing..." he ghosts his teeth over Juno's neck and hears Juno groan softly above him, "About showing what a good girl you are off, love."

"Fuck," Juno breathes out, and Nureyev leans back to smile at him.

"The details of the person doing the watching don't bother me," he says, "Although I like the idea of it being someone you're attracted to. If you're good, I might even let her have a taste of you."

Nureyev pulls away from Juno and turns to glance across the room at the woman, smiling when he finds her eyes already locked onto the both of them.

"Do you like that idea?" Nureyev asks.

"Fucking hell, are you kidding me?" Juno wheezes, "This is like—one of my top three fantasies."

Nureyev chuckles. He peels away from Juno's side, taking him by the wrist and leading the both of them back to where their  _ third _ is waiting, one hand on her hip.

"We'll have to lay down some ground rules," Nureyev says as Juno settles into a barstool, and she holds both her hands up, easing into the barstool next to Juno's.

"Of course," she says.

"First things first, if you don't mind me cutting to the chase, I won't be sexually involved with you myself."

She looks him up and down and tsks, "Shame, but nothing I can't handle. How about this beauty?"

Juno laughs a little breathlessly when she trails a hand up his thigh, and Nureyev steps in close behind Juno, possessively.

"He's mine," Nureyev says, "And I'll be deciding how much of you he gets to have, if he's very good to me. You'll be taking on more of an observational role for the most part, if that's agreeable with you."

"I can be your voyeur," she says, and winks once at Juno before stepping back. "Name's Anna. Do I get to know the two of your names?"

"Nureyev," Peter says, "and this is Juno."

"Well then," Anna says. "Shall we get a room?"

The love hotel consists of four main towers, each of which are situated to face one another in a close sort-of circle. The wall facing out from each room is entirely glass, although each also has a curtain that can be pulled shut.

Nureyev pointedly does  _ not _ pull the curtain shut when he walks past the window and turns to survey the room. It is mostly taken up by a large, plush, lavender purple heart-shaped bed, covered in cushions and pillows. They opted for the larger bed, but there is also a plush chair against a wall that onlooks it; perfect for a voyeur. There is a cupboard, which Juno slides open to reveal a menagerie of toys, equipment, and hygiene items; all except the latter category of item each with their own price tag attached.

Juno whistles, "Fancy."

"First time here?" Anna asks, "This place is a treat. Nowhere better in the galaxy to have some clean adult fun. Real up to date, too. The toilet's got more buttons on it than my comms."

"I wouldn't even know where to put this," Juno murmurs in absentminded awe at a transparent sex toy that's shaped roughly like an ancient coral from Earth's ocean. Nureyev takes one glance at the price tag and decides immediately that they don't have enough creds to find out.

"Love," Nureyev steps up behind him, feeling Juno tense slightly in his arms before he presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "As much as I love to see you investigating, we're not here to enjoy the decor. We only paid for two hours, you know."

"Right," Juno leans back into his arms immediately, and Nureyev steps back so that both of them are facing Anna. He concerns himself with pressing kisses to Juno's neck as he unzips his dress and lets it fall around his heels.

"Fuck. Aren't you a sight?" Anna says, and Nureyev steps away from Juno to circle around to his front.

"Stunning, isn't he?" Nureyev lets himself drink the sight in, too; Juno's lingerie set accentuates his breasts and draws the eye to his cock, already stirring against the lacework at the attention of two sets of eyes on him.

"What's the policy on kissing?" Anna asks, and Juno looks to Nureyev.

Nureyev feels it in his gut, the way Juno defers for his guidance, his permission. He smiles, "I don't see the harm in a kiss, if Juno is willing."

Juno is, it turns out. His hands go right to Anna's waist when she kisses him, and he makes a soft sound that Nureyev can hear, even from a few steps away. Anna keeps to the rule of one kiss, and soon enough she's stepping back out of his arms. "You taste as good as you look," she says.

"I, uh— think that's the lipstick," Juno's voice comes out a little hoarse. "It's flavoured."

Nureyev steps forward. He take's Juno's chin in his fingers and leans forward to press one kiss to his mouth. "Down on your knees for me, love," he says, and Juno obeys immediately.

"Good girl. Wait there for me," Nureyev says, and a shudder runs through Juno's body.

"Obedient, isn't he?" Anna remarks, reaching behind her back for the tie holding her dress up.

Nureyev slides the suit jacket off his shoulders and begins undoing the buttons on his shirt. He doesn't take his eyes off Juno as he speaks, "He gets hungry for it. Don't you, Juno? You'll do anything anybody tells you if it means getting fucked sooner."

He watches Juno's throat bob as he swallows, before he nods his head. "Get your fucking clothes off faster already and I'll show you just how hungry for it I can get,  _ Nureyev _ ."

Nureyev grins at him, and shucks his pants. He's in a nice lingerie set himself, though he doesn't let Juno's eyes soak him in long before taking off the underwear, leaving him in a bralette and heels.

Nureyev sits on the end of the bed, and Anna sits herself down in the chair against the wall, facing them. Juno swivels around on his knees so that he's between Nureyev's legs. His breath ghosts over Nureyev's dick for a moment, before he glances up and Nureyev nods once.

Juno runs his tongue along Nureyev's cock, and then sucks gently on it. Nureyev leans his head back with a soft sigh. He lifts one leg over Juno's shoulder, the point of his heel scraping slightly down Juno's back, and he twines one hand into Juno's curls.

Juno moans a muffled sound and rolls his tongue over the piercing in Nureyev's hood, and Nureyev arches his back and moans softly. He is acutely aware he is being watched, and committed to putting on a show, even if it requires a little exaggeration. So he leans back on one elbow on the bed, not letting up his grip in Juno's curls with the other hand, and pulls his bottom lip through his sharp teeth, letting his eyes flutter closed as Juno sucks at his dick.

Juno moans softly, one of his hands gripping onto Nureyev's hip and squeezing. It takes really no time at all before Nureyev is no longer needing to play up how much he is enjoying himself; Juno makes his legs feel weak and his stomach flutter and his whole body fill with pleasure, and Nureyev props himself up a little more and tightens his grip in Juno's hair, "Harder, Juno."

Juno moans, eager to please as usual. "That's it, love," Nureyev praises softly. "Be good for me, now."

He spares a glance to Anna. She's sitting back with her eyes raking down his chest, one hand in her underwear. It does something to him; being watched. He remembers suddenly the bare glass window just to his left. The chance that somebody is actually watching them is slim, but it lights him up through his core to imagine it regardless. Would they be jealous? Would they see him wracked with pleasure and wish they could know how Juno Steel's tongue felt inside of them? Would it drive them mad that he gets to have this and nobody else?

Nureyev tugs at Juno's hair, looking down at him hazily as he pulls his face closer. Juno opens his eye and looks up to meet Nureyev's gaze. Nureyev grins down at him, "Good girl. You look simply delectable like this. Our guest can't keep her eyes off of you."

That makes Juno shudder, and he whines slightly, which makes Nureyev sigh. He rolls his hips forward a little, and closes his own eyes. "Yes, Juno," he moans, "Oh  _ darling _ . Such a good slut for me."

Juno moans again, it sounding almost punched out of him, and his whole body shakes. He pulls away to say, "Jesus fucking Christ," hoarsely, and press a kiss to Nureyev's belly, before he returns to running his tongue over Nureyev's dick.

Nureyev laughs low and breathless, "Oh Juno, you—  _ ah _ —  _ like _ that, don't you? For a second I thought you'd come untouched like a desperate little slut."

Juno shudders again. Suddenly, his warm, rough hands run up Nureyev's thighs, and he pulls the other leg over his other shoulder. His hands go up to Nureyev's hips and he pulls him down a little, the new angle letting him get in just right to lick Nureyev open with his tongue.

Nureyev has to put his arm down to catch himself. He throws his head back and gasps for air. "Oh,  _ darling _ ."

He's so knocked off balance by the new onslaught of sensation, it takes him a moment before he recovers enough to tighten his grip on Juno's curls again. "Good, Juno. Don't stop. Make me come, love."

Juno doesn't stop, and soon a deep coil twists in Nureyev's gut. His breathing goes shallow, and his fist tighter in Juno's hair. "Oh, love—oh—yes, yes—"

He comes with a shuddering gasp, his mouth falling open and eyes screwing shut. His stomach clenches and convulses, and his legs twitch on Juno's shoulders. He moans softly and relaxes back onto the bed, and Juno pulls away to press kisses to his inner thighs.

"You alright over there?" Anna teases, and Nureyev sits up and laughs breathlessly. Juno is sitting on the end of the bed near his knees, and Peter leans over to kiss him. They make out slowly for a solid while, and Nureyev slides his hand down Juno's belly to touch him through his underwear.

Juno whines into his mouth and twitches his hips up into Nureyev's hand. Nureyev breaks the kiss with a chuckle, "Are you that desperate to be touched, love?"

"Please," Juno pants out, "Please, wanna be good for you—both of you."

Nureyev glances over to see that Anna has pulled herself out of her underwear, her fingers rubbing at the ridge under the head of her soft clit. "Of course," he kisses Juno once on the lips again. Then he maneuvers himself so that he's sitting on his legs back on the bed, and pats the space in front of him. Juno shuffles over and slots in infront of Nureyev so that his back is pressed up against Nureyev’s chest.

He reaches around to touch Juno through his underwear, and a shudder runs up Juno's spine that Nureyev feels against his body. He lets his fingers dip under the elastic band of the lingerie and pulls his cock out, wrapping his hand around the shaft.

"Fuck," Anna says. "God, it's unfair how hot you are."

Nureyev laughs and presses his lips to Juno's neck. He kisses him once and then murmurs, "Do you want her?"

He hear's Juno's breath hitch before he answers, "Yeah. Please, Nureyev."

Nureyev rubs his thumb over the head of Juno's cock and looks at Anna, "You can suck him off, if you like," he says, and Juno groans.

Anna sinks to her knees in front of the bed, and Nureyev takes his hand away from Juno's cock. He squeezes at Juno's hips, and gets up on his knees so he's tall enough to turn Juno's face to his and kiss him. Juno kisses him back for a moment, and Nureyev hears the hitch in his breath a second before he moans quietly, and Nureyev glances down to see Anna tonguing at his cock.

"That's it, Juno," Nureyev reassures him, and reaches around to touch his tits, squeezing gently at them before slipping his fingers into the cups of his lacy bra to rub at the swell of his hardening nipples.

"Oh my God," Juno sighs softly, "Oh, fuck.  _ Nureyev _ ."

"That's right," Nureyev says, "Say my name. Thank me for letting you have this."

Juno's breath catches again, "I—thank y—nnh  _ fuck _ ," he manages, his back arching suddenly away from Nureyev's chest. He hears the soft click of Anna's throat around his cock, and decides for the meantime to keep touching Juno's tits, pressing kisses into his neck.

"Nureyev," Juno moans, and he leans his head back onto Nureyev's shoulder. Nureyev lets one hand come up to tangle in Juno's hair, the other still playing with one of his tits.

"Good girl," Nureyev purrs, "You've been so good for us. Darling, you've no idea how beautiful you are. Everybody you meet wants to fuck you senseless. I consider myself lucky every day I get to have you."

"Fu- _ uuck, _ that's good, feels so good," Juno reaches one hand down to tangle in Anna's hair, not tugging but gently guiding, in the way he does, "Don't fucking stop, please."

Anna moans, and Juno shudders. Nureyev can feel arousal pooling in his stomach again, and more than that he can tell Juno's close. He kisses the back of Juno's neck and presses in close to him.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh  _ fuck _ , I'm gonna come—Nureyev—Anna, fuck—" Juno arches away from Nureyev's chest again, the hand not in Anna's hair clenching in the sheets. "I—h—"

Juno goes tense and he gasps, and Nureyev traces his hands over Juno's tummy until he groans and collapses back into Nureyev's arms, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Nureyev holds him through it, Juno whining and leaning his head back on Nureyev's shoulder until the last aftershocks finally pass through, and he settles with a gentle, "Nureyev..."

Anna pulls off of his cock with a slick sound. She's panting, and she doesn't move from her position on her knees in front of the bed for a moment. A second later, she too goes tense and gasps, her hips hitching into her hand as she comes dry.

Juno turns his head to kiss Nureyev while he and Anna come down from their respective orgasms. A moment later, Anna gets shakily to her feet. "Can I kiss him again?" she directs to Nureyev.

Nureyev kisses the back of Juno's neck and leans back, "If he wants."

She leans on the bed with one knee and leans in to cup Juno's face in both her hands. This kiss is much deeper than the first, and they part with a wet sound.

"I'm gonna miss you, cutie," she says to him, and then to Nureyev, she says, "Not gonna lie to you. I'm a little jealous of you. How'd you end up with a gal so nice?"

"He got me kidnapped," Juno says, at the same time as Nureyev says, "We met at a murder scene, technically."

She blinks at them both.

They finish saying their goodbyes and Anna gets dressed back up. She kisses Juno once more before she leaves, and then it's just the two of them.

"Wow," Juno says. "So? How was that?"

Nureyev shrugs, "It was fun. You seemed to enjoy yourself."

"No... uncomfy feelings? Insecurities we should talk about?" Juno asks.

"Not on my end. Anything from yours?"

Juno shakes his head, "Nope. Good. Cause I was thinkin' we better put the rest of the time we have booked to good use," he says, and now he's advancing on Nureyev. "How do you feel about pushing this bed up against that glass wall and reminding me who I belong to? Just in case I get any ideas."

"Oh, Juno," Nureyev says, as Juno pushes him back onto the mattress, "It would be my pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can i get a comment? can i Pwease get a comment?


	14. somnophilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! This Is Sleep Sex (sort of; touching happens while nureyev is asleep but nothing else) so please be aware of the potential dubious consent that could be interpreted? everything i write is ALWAYS fully consensual even it seems otherwise initially, & that's discussed in this, but if the prompt makes you uncomfortable skip it!

The first conscious thought Nureyev has is that he feels really, _really_ good.

He sighs, shifting a little and soaking in the sensation pooling in the bottom of his belly and warming his entire body. In his half-sleep state, he imagines it's Juno's mouth, sucking on his dick and making him soak through his briefs. It feels so nice, he doesn't quite want to wake up any further than he already is. But his body does it anyway, and he registers the two fingers rubbing against his dick. He feigns sleep a moment longer, anyway, shifting his his against the hand between his legs and sighing. Then he grins wide to himself, his eyes still closed.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, with a sleep-rough voice.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you," Juno replies, low in his ear. "You're fucking sexy like this, all relaxed for me."

It's sort of a lie, really. Actually, his faculties now fully restored to him, Nureyev remembers the conversation they'd had just before he slept. About Juno helping him enact one of his more... _risque_ fantasies.

Juno's initial response had been uncertain. Twice so after their first attempt ended with an alarmed barely-awake Nureyev lashing back so the only love making that happened was between Nureyev's elbow and Juno's good eye, and rather than Jet thumping his fist on the wall, it was Vespa thumping her head against the bench in the medbay as they danced around trying to explain what had happened. But eventually he'd been convinced to try again.

...Anyway, thinking about that distracts him from the scene, so he pushes it out of his mind and stretches back languidly, and sighs again.

He lets himself fall back into something close to a sleep state, deeply relaxed apart from the mounting tension in his lower body. He turns his head into the pillow and moans softly, "Juno..."

"Yeah, fuck. I've got you. Feel good?"

"Very," Nureyev sighs, "Don't stop."

At one point he almost does fall asleep. He fantasies that Juno's inside of him, his cock filling him up deep and stretching him wide. He's so deeply lost in the imagery and the sensation that he almost doesn't notice Juno pulling his briefs to one side until his finger is sliding against his entrance.

"Mmm _mm_ ," Nureyev encourages eloquently, arching his back.

Juno dips two fingers just past the rim of him, and then back out. Nureyev almost opens his eyes at the lack of sensation until he hears what is unmistakably the sound of fingers leaving Juno's mouth.

"Taste so good," Juno murmurs, and then reaches down to slide his fingers into Nureyev.

"Oh—hh," Nureyev groans softly. " _Juno_."

"Shh, shh, good boy," Juno presses a kiss under Nureyev's ear, and Nureyev's breath catches sharply in his throat.

The blankets are soft and warm. Juno's fingers are thick and slow-moving, and his mouth is trailing gentle kisses along Nureyev's jaw. "To what do I owe this lovely treat?" he asks, his voice only shaking once.

"Already told you," Juno says. "You looked so good. Couldn't resist."

His thumb rubs against Nureyev's dick. Nureyev sighs and moans softly. Juno presses a kiss to his neck.

Nureyev comes with a choking sigh, clenching down around Juno's fingers.

He opens his eyes for the first time. Juno is hovering over him, his mouth slightly open and his pupils blown.

"Fuck," Juno says, sliding his fingers out of Nureyev, "That was hot."

"Mm," Nureyev smiles, and then, quick as a whip, flips them over in bed. He presses Juno back into the pillows and kisses him hard.

"Now that I'm properly awake," he mutters against Juno's lips, "How do you feel about me fucking you into the mattress before breakfast?"

As an answer, Juno pulls Nureyev back into a kiss.


	15. shower sex

"This seems like a stupid idea."

Buddy only laughs delightedly, twisting the tap until the water runs warm. She steps inside the stream and holds both her hands out.

It's a vulnerable thing. Fully naked without the dim light of their quarters to hide behind, all of Buddy is visible. Vespa has to take a moment to stare, tracing her eyes from the cellulite on Buddy's thighs, to the scar down her stomach from the surgery she had to implant the machine that keeps her digestive system functioning, to the necrotic flesh on the side of her face. She's beautiful, every part of her; strong and defiant in the face of every force in this world that has tried to pull her down. Vespa takes her hands. She steps cautiously over the lip of the bath, and when she's steady, Buddy pulls the shower curtain closed.

"Alright," Vespa says, "So now what?"

"Now whatever you like, love," Buddy says, but her eye tracks downwards while her eyebrows raise up, drawing Vespa's gaze to the one part of her she hadn't stared at before joining her in the shower.

Namely, her strap.

It's hot pink and ribbed in a way that almost makes Vespa's toes curl just to look at. Not too long, but Vespa knows it'll be more than enough. She looks back up at Buddy, "I still don't know about this, Bud. We spent thirty minutes chewing Steel and Ransom out for breaking the shower curtain last month. If something happens and they find us, they'll never let us hear the end of it. "

"Well it's a good thing that, unlike  _ Steel and Ransom _ , love, we planned ahead," Buddy says, and sits down primly on the shower stool she'd snuck into the bathroom.

She's hard to resist, smiling confidently up at Vespa with the strap between her legs angled up invitingly. Vespa sighs. "Waste of time you lubing me up beforehand if we don't do at least  _ something _ ," she acquiesces, and Buddy laughs again.

Vespa adjusts the shower head so that the water hits Buddy softly on her chest and stomach without battering her face. Then she steps over into Buddy's open arms, coming to stand with one leg on either side of Buddy's thighs.

She rests her knees either side of Buddy's thighs on the shower stool and lowers herself down til she can feel the head of Buddy's strap pressing gently against her entrance. Buddy's hands go to her waist. "Alright, love?" she asks softly, "Gently, now. We have time."

The water runs against her back, sending shivers down her spine she warms up under the hot, steady spray. Vespa feels the stretch of Buddy's strap start to press into her, and leans her head back with a sigh.

It takes a minute before Vespa is fully settled. She leans into Buddy's chest and rests there for a moment, her arms around her neck, enjoying the feeling of the water and breathing in lungfuls of steam.

Buddy runs her fingers up and down the ridge of Vespa's spine while she adjusts. After a moment, Vespa leans back up and cups Buddy's face in her hands. She leans in and kisses Buddy softly. Then she leans back and starts to rock her hips a little.

Buddy leans her head back against the shower wall, a smile pulling at her lips. She lets her eye drift from Vespa's face down to her breasts and lower, and Vespa starts to move.

The ribs in Buddy's strap set lines of fire up Vespa's gut, and she tips her head back and moans. Then she gets a mouthful of hot water, and has to lean over Buddy's side to spit into the bottom of the shower, "Gross."

Buddy laughs, not unkindly, and drags Vespa back into a kiss.

Vespa fucks herself in Buddy's lap, sliding up and down on her strap and groaning softly into her mouth between kisses. Buddy holds her hips and squeezes on every downwards shift of Vespa's hips. It's a lot, the pressure and the pleasure and the warmth of the water.

"Buddy," Vespa groans, "Bud. Fuck."

Buddy pulls Vespa down onto her strap, making her gasp out a shocked moan, and pulls her into a kiss.

"This simply won't do," she says when they part, and Vespa has half a second to feel horrified that she's done something wrong before Buddy suddenly hauls herself to her feet with startling strength.

"Bud!" Vespa almost falls right off her and cracks her head on the shower lip, but Buddy's arms are around her waist before she has half a second to fall, and then her back is against the shower wall.

"Oh my God," Vespa leans her head back against the wall. She's out of the shower spray, and it's cold, but Buddy is already shifting her hips up into her and Vespa wraps her legs around Buddy's thighs and holds on tight.

"Vespa," Buddy gasps into her chest, "Oh, love. This is much better."

"Yeah," Vespa agrees breathlessly, "Fuck, Bud."

Vespa's not quite sure how Buddy manages to keep her up, but she sure as fuck knows she doesn't care as long as she never, ever stops moving. Buddy shifts her hips and Vespa gasps and scrabbles for purchase on Buddy's wet back, her fingers tangling in Buddy's curls and tugging.

"That's it, darling," Buddy leans in and kisses her, "Vespa. Oh,  _ oh _ ."

"Fu—uck," Vespa groans. She can feel an orgasm building in the muscles of her gut and she tugs Buddy's hair tighter in her hands. They haven't had sex like  _ this _ in God knows how long, too long, and Vespa feels like if it takes them years to make up for it it'll be years spent in the best way possible.

Buddy pulls her down onto her hips and grinds into the base of the strap, letting out a shuddering gasp. Vespa knows that sound like she knows the beat of her heart, and she knows she's close.

"C'mon, Bud," Vespa encourages, tugging on her hair again.

Buddy thrusts another two, three times before she half collapses into Vespa on the wall and buries her face into her shoulder. Vespa reaches down between the two of them and touches herself, and between Buddy's twitching and the strap still inside her and the pressure of her hand, it's not long before she's seizing and coming, too.

Buddy lets her down and pulls out of her. Vespa's legs feel a little too weak to hold herself up to stand, so instead she leans back against the wall and reaches out to slap the tap off.

" _ Well _ ," Buddy says, and grins.

Vespa laughs a little hoarsely, and grins back.

"I'd say we'd call that—" Buddy says, and then takes a step back and slips. There's a moment of pure panic in her expression before she topples right over backwards, falling into the shower curtain and ripping it from its hinges.

"Buddy?!" Vespa scrambles out of the bath and to Buddy's side, ensuring she hasn't done any damage to herself. As she checks her over for injuries ("Nothing but my dignity, love," Buddy insists), there comes a knock at the door.

"Hey, uh... Vespa?" Juno asks, "Are you, like...  _ good _ in there?"

Vespa looks to the door, and then to Buddy, and more importantly the broken shower curtain.

"God fucking damnit," she grits out of her teeth, and Buddy leans back her head and laughs, exasperatedly.


End file.
